


Ghost Town

by noxlacrimae



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Light Angst, Like, Other, that's mostly what this is, tons of introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlacrimae/pseuds/noxlacrimae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Brownman is Dead.</p><p>"It was worst when they saw him too. It was one thing to feel that long-standing ache, a pain he was growing, had grown, dull to. To catch sight of a familiar face and to turn, slowly so as to not attract attention and to walk away from the friends he had known for some of the best years of his life. But it was another thing to see those familiar faces catch sight of his, and then glide away, their eyes slipping off in another direction. As if he wasn’t there, wasn’t real. Just a ghost, just a flicker of the lights, just another illusion of this blinding city. It made him feel like one. Ray faded."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost Town

When Ray had walked out, he had known what the consequences would be. He had thought long and hard about it, spent nights pacing and arguing with himself over the possible outcomes of the many scenarios he played out in his head. When he had gone into Geoff’s office and said those fateful words, he had already prepared for the worst. He was ready to never walk back out of the room, and to exit with a hole in his head instead if that was what the consequences would be. It was such a simple little sentence, and though not long or complicated, it was one of the most difficult things Ray had ever had to say. He stood ready for whatever would come, spine straight and shoulders pushed back proudly. “Geoff….I’m out. I need to get out. I’m leaving the Fakes.” 

 

He wasn’t really sure what he had expected, and Geoff was quiet for a moment, considering. He seemed to be testing Ray, and when he could see Ray wasn't joking, the cold look, the business look, entered Geoff’s eyes. It had been years since Ray had seen Geoff look at him like that, and he wasn’t sure how he should feel about it. “Ray. You’re serious. You’re really serious about this.” Ray breathed in deeply and then exhaled his response. “Yeah, I really am. I just, I need out Geoff.” In the ragged sound of Ray's voice those hours of desperation must have shown through, as  Geoff calmly pushed back his chair, and then stood. “Okay Ray. I’ll get Jack to draw up the papers, and give you a rundown of protocol from now on.”

...

 

Ray had filled out the papers that Jack gave him and when he was about to sign the last line, Jack stopped him. “Ray Narvaez Jr., with this signature, you  have officially disbanded as a member of the Fake AH Crew. You will no longer be afforded the protections or financial dispensations that have been a part of your work with the Crew. All accounts formerly in your name will remain as such, and your identity will be protected as will all personal information shared with the Crew.  From now on, Ray Narvaez Jr. was never and will never be associated with the Fake AH Crew. 

Do you agree to these terms?”

 

“I do.” Jack nodded and leaned back, watching as Ray signed the paper. 

Jack collected back together the papers that Ray had signed and completed. She rose with a sigh, folder under her arm. “As soon as your two weeks are up, you are forbidden from any association or contact of any form with the members of the Fake AH Crew, understood? No contact.” She said it a bit softer than she had been speaking before, still business-like but just slightly warmer, almost pitying. Ray felt his ire rise, and snapped out, “I read the fucking papers Jack, I understand what I’ve done.” 

 

“Just making sure,” she said with an almost sad smile “It has been a pleasure working with you, Ray. I wish you the best in the future.” Ray couldn’t help but feel touched, even if her comment seemed kind of condescending. “Thanks Jack. Same goes for you, and the whole crew. Tell them I said that please?” Jack just smiled, a bit colder, less personal this time, and walked out the door. 

 

As his final two weeks passed, Ray worked. He prepared for their next heist, which would be a cover for his departure from the crew. He spent days in the range, nights checking over his equipment. Any time he had left over, he packed, and packed and cleaned. He drifted from the Crew members, never talking to them, seeking them out or even greeting them in passing. The air between him and the rest of the crew had already been chilly, but now it was downright frigid. It's better this way, he thought. Easier for everyone. 

 

Then at last the day came, and he set up on the roof of the abandoned base, rigged to blow and take Ray out of the public eye and end his time with the Fakes. And as the time ticked closer, he let himself doubt, now that it was too late to go back. And as his timer beeped and he leapt clear of the building, he felt the blowback of the explosion and he felt time slow down, the tips of his hair singed, his skin blistering under the fire and Ray felt all at once, how he thought it might feel to die. 

And the Brownman, FAHC’s crack sniper and beloved member was gone. 

And Ray Narvaez Jr.? He did what he did best. He disappeared.

 

...

 

Really, the worst of it all was when he saw them. 

Ray had settled easily into his old routine. Working completely alone felt strange after so many years of constant companionship, but he knew he would adjust. He already had for the most part. The Brownman was dead as far as the city knew, mourned by his Crew. Meanwhile, bounty hunter Rose Mask, an ancient alias that had hidden his face long before Los Santos and the FAHC had swallowed Ray whole, made his quiet return. And as the Rose Mask grew, Ray faded. New persona, same old tired cycle. 

 

It was days like this when the constant and oppressive heat broke, and clouds poured down their long withheld bounty, flooding the streets and homes of a crooked and crushing city, that Ray liked to leave his apartment and just walk the streets. He liked seeing the city he had come to call home this way, washed clean of the grime just for a moment, a glimpse of what the city could have been. A glimpse of what might have been. A sentimental piece of shit to the end, Narvaez, he would think to himself wryly. And as he worked his way through town, Ray faded. Blended into the background, slipping into shadow. 

 

When Ray was out, he usually went where he knew the Fakes didn’t tend to frequent. But sometimes he just saw them despite his best attempts. He would turn a corner, and the sight of Gavin, Michael, Lindsay and Meg in a cafe would freeze his blood. Sometimes, it seemed his feet betrayed him and he found himself tracing his way back to old hideouts, safe houses. He would see Jack in her plainclothes walking up the steps to a building he knew better than he knew his sniper rifle. He would see Ryan, sans face paint and mask, wearing his glasses and dad jeans at the grocery store. He always saw them when he least expected it. He saw the ghost of The Brownman alongside them, every time he saw the crew. And Ray faded. 

It was worst when they saw him too. It was one thing to feel that long-standing ache, a pain he was growing, had grown, dull to. To catch sight of a familiar face and to turn, slowly so as to not attract attention and to walk away from the friends he had known for some of the best years of his life. But it was another thing to see those familiar faces catch sight of his, and then glide away, their eyes slipping off in another direction. As if he wasn’t there, wasn’t real. Just a ghost, just a flicker of the lights, just another illusion of this blinding city. It made him feel like one. Ray faded. 

 

Nothing left Ray as hollow as the cold feeling of someone you used to know looking right through you. Nothing burned like the feeling of being forgotten, spitefully by some, merely by the passage of time for others. A note in a file, a ghost story told to the new recruits. Ray had known what the consequences would be, had known this would be the outcome. Just another ghost in a city of restless souls, someone with more unfinished business keeping him from passing on. And slowly the Rose Mask faded. His time was up, just like the Brownman. Just like Ray. 

 

And all that unfinished business built up, a tangled web of unspoken feelings and broken promises, and long forgotten deeds buried deep came rushing to the surface. The web tightened, closing in, washing over Ray in waves like the sea. And Ray faded. And Ray drifted. And Ray drowned. 

And just quickly as it came, it was gone. The ocean of unfinished business stranded ashore the empty husk of a man who had left everything and found himself to be nothing.

So he let go.

And he became someone new. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think of this maybe? I've had it in my drafts for months HAH


End file.
